Sanctuary
by BilliMonroe
Summary: She was vanilla scented with copper skin, and hair the color of burnt cinnamon.Her tone dripped defiance, far removed of past compliance.But where her body and voice held firm their resolve,her heart broke the alliance.
1. Portia: Suspicion is it's Own Answer

**EXCERPT: **

As I walked down the long corridor, the burnt orange walls grew dimmer and dimmer, and okay, so I was lost, but whenever I did find my way back to Mr. Wall's art class, I could just say that I was looking at paintings. It wouldn't be a total lie, because before being accosted I was. WHAT? I WAS! One painting in particular stood out from all of the others. It was a painting of a Zen garden on fire. Red flames stuck up out of the ground as if they were challenging the grass to grow higher. But the thing that made this painting stand out from all of the others was not its HD coloring or the fact that it looked fairly newer than most of the others paintings in the museum. No, what really set this painting apart from the others is that its entirety was painted onto a _door_. A door that was tucked subtly into the back of the museum as if it were hiding. A door whose knob, at that very moment, started to turn…

**CHAPTER 1:** Portia- Suspicion Is Its Own Answer

"Ugh, how does he manage to pick the slutiest girls?" my friend Caylee Cartwright asked in regard to my ex, Jordan Daniels and his newest flavor of the week Rajah McHannon. She asked this question as we walked around the Esperanza City Museum with the rest of Roscoe American High School's— known as R.A.H.S to its students— seventh period, Day 2 art class. Here at R.A.H.S, we have block scheduling. Our first through fourth classes are on Day 1, while our fifth through eighth classes are on Day 2. We all have art seventh period, because, as far as easy classes went, it was either Esperanzan Art, which is the study of art in Esperanza--the little island right off the western cost of Ecuador on which R.A.H.S. is located— or Home Ec. where all they do is crochet. Um, no thanks. I mean, if we wanted to sew, we could just join Knit for Life, the student sponsored club that knits blankets, booties, and other stuff for local orphans. Not that that's a bad thing. Anyway, who is 'we', you ask? We are the most elite clique at R.A.H.S. Not really, but I swear that's the way my friends act. They're all free drinks and VIP tables. Can we say Gossip Girl?

"I mean slut after slut after slut!" Then seeing my icy glare, she quickly rephrased her statement, "W-well, I...um...I didn't mean you sweetie, 'cause you were...well...um... you know. You're like his high school sweetheart. And that's something that no other woman has had with him."

"If that were true, then that would be about the only piece of him that no other woman has had. My friend Giselle Colón quipped in her thick, yet childlike accent. Giselle was about 4'9", but her presence made her seem about 10 feet tall. She's hyper, opinionated, and talks about a mile a minute. Her fast-talking is partially due to her being Panazuelan: a word that Giselle invented to describe her half Panamanian-half Venezuelan background. Whatever. "But he's got a different high school sweetheart like every other day."

"No, you only get one high school sweetheart, and Portia is definitely Jordan's?"

"Right and I bet that you believe in unicorns too!"

"God, Gessie! I'm serious!" Caylee has been my best friend for the last four years. She and I are practically sisters, so understand that when I say that she is the most naïve person that I've ever met, I say it with love. She's a 5'6", 110 pound blond who is probably one of the smartest people that I've ever met. But she's also one of those people who see the silver lining in ever dark cloud. Giselle? Yeah, not so much. In fact, Gessie (pronounced like Jessie) doesn't trust anything or anyone except for us, her family, and her girlfriend in Brazil. How they can be friends, I will never know.

"Can we talk about something other than my slutty ex please?" I beg. And luckily for me, Andrew Fuller interrupts the gossip twins before they could start another argument about the joke that is my life.

"Hello ladies." Andrew Fuller has been dating our friend Daphne Moore for about six months, and she has been cheating on him for about 5 months and 29 days. To tell you the truth, I don't even see the connection. They are like the day and night. Literally! Daphne is about 6 feet tall with skin the color of virgin coffee and hair in deep raven plaits down her back. Andrew is about six foot 4 inches of icy pale skin, wavy brown hair, green eyes, and sweater vests. And not the sexy ones that guys sometimes wear with trendy blazers, but the wool kind that come in colors like puke green and dog poop brown.

"Hi Drewy," Caylee cheerfully greets as Gessie just absentmindedly waves.

"Portia, can I speak to you for a moment?" Honestly, I was getting tired of Drew and his needing to speak to me all the time. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy and all, but I already knew that he wanted to ask me what had gotten into Daphne, and I did not want to be the one to inform him that it was more of a matter of who had gotten into her, not what. Can't Daphne just break up with him once and for all instead of drawing out the inevitable by bedding the whole school behind his back? God! The drama with these two!

"Yeah, but why don't we talk and walk at the same time?" I sighed.

"Adieu ladies," he winked and let his eyes linger on Caylee, holding her there for a second longer than was necessary. We walked past the different exhibits and paintings while he droned on and on about his and Daphne's lack of communication or consummation or something to that effect. "I just don't understand, Portia. I do everything for her! I even do her homework early so that we can spend time together after she's done with cheerleading practice, but she always says that she has to stay late and help with the basketball practice. And lately I have been hearing loathsome rumors about," then he looked around suspiciously and dropped his voice, "fornication. But this cannot be the case, right Portia?" And here it was plain and simple. The thing that, despite all of his weird quirks and formalities, bonded Drew and me together. After all, he was nothing more than a jilted lover who wanted to hold on to the best from the one that he loved, but would grasp nothing but lies and denial. The knowledge that suspicion in itself is its own answer made him turn away from me after he had asked. Suddenly the painting in front of him needed his attention and he was only too happy to oblige. But I was too busy silently debating whether I was going to flat out lie to him to realize that one: I had never stopped walking even though Drew had, and two: the lights had grown almost as faint as the sounds of my class. This turn of events should have been my first clue that something was terribly wrong. Of course, I did not see it coming until…

"Going somewhere Portia?"

…it was too late.


	2. Portia: That Voice

**CHAPTER 2: **Portia- That Voice

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as if called to attention at the sound of my name. My feet soon followed suit and pimples eroded my skin. He knew that he had me pinned there. Pinned to that very spot just like he had had pinned me to his arm like a broach during our relationship. It was that voice. The voice that made me say yes to his invitation to the homecoming dance our freshman year. The voice that had whispered apologies in the night while he gently stroked my collarbone. And now it was the end of our junior year and I was still at the mercy of that voice. It was the voice of the Devil: deep and smooth. Just like every other thing that he did. As if he would have it any other way.

"What do you want Jordan?" I asked, hoping that he would mistake the tightness in my voice for annoyance instead of blind fear.

"Do you know what fascinates me about you Portia?" He didn't wait for me to answer, because as usual, my reply was not requested. "Despite your tough façade, your eyes always gave away what you most desired. Or feared," he whispered this last part in my ear. Damn! Again, he saw through me and was one step ahead. But this time, I was not going to give in to his manipulation.

"Only someone as convoluted and delusional as you would mistake irritation for inferiority. But let me clarify the situation for you: I am not in the mood for you bull—." But I never got to finish that sentence because at that moment two things happened. First, Jordan decided that my earlobes needed to be attended to in a way that he felt only his lips could. And secondly, I ran out of there as fast as I possibly could! I don't know how far that I had planned to get, but I knew that nowhere would ever be far enough.

"You'll be back Portia! Haven't you learned by now that you'll always come back?! Remember, I own you!" he snarled. Neither one of us knew then just how true that those words would later prove to be. I looked over my shoulder to see if he was chasing after me, but of course he wasn't. Jordan never chased after me. He never chased after anyone. Why would he exert the energy when he always got what he wanted without making any effort at all?

As I walked down the long corridor, the burnt orange walls grew dimmer and dimmer, and okay, I was lost, but whenever I did find my way back to Mr. Wall's art class, I could just say that I was looking at paintings. It wouldn't be a total lie, because before being accosted I was. WHAT? I WAS! One painting in particular stood out from all of the others. It was a painting of a Zen garden on fire. Red flames stuck up out of the ground as if they were challenging the grass to grow higher. But the thing that made this painting stand out from all of the others was not its HD coloring or the fact that it looked fairly newer than most of the others paintings in the museum. No, what really set this painting apart from the others is that its entirety was painted onto a _door_. A door that was tucked subtly into the back of the museum as if it were hiding. A door whose knob, at that very moment, started to turn...


	3. His Eyes Were Watching

**CHAPTER 3:** His Eyes Were Watching

She stood frozen in time.

And I couldn't tell if she was searching for a way out,

Or searching for who she used to be inside of her shadow.

Either way, all that was offered to her was a dead end and an empty shell.

Empty because she bared the mark of a someone who had given too much of herself

To someone who demanded way more than her all.

I took in the look of fear in her charcoal eyes as he read her from cover to cover.

And though my take on this confrontation was limited to a key hole's view,

The walls stood witness as her body spoke in silence.

She was vanilla scented with copper skin,

And hair the color of burnt cinnamon.

Her tone dripped defiance,

Far removed of past compliance.

But where her body and voice held firm their resolve,

Her heart broke the alliance.

The blast was so overwhelming,

That it splintered down to her feet.

Closing the distance of our proximity

And intensifying my intrigue.

So in a world of roles, one thinks him the villain

And I the knight riding in to protect.

But what if she's managed to escape the embers of a nightmare…

…Only to be met by the fire itself.


	4. Portia: The Cool Exterior

**CHAPTER 4**: Portia – The Cool Exterior

So for the second time that day, I found myself running. As curious as I was to find out who or what was behind door number one, I was not stupid. I'm not really the damsel in distress type; so ready to flee from the big bad wolf that she'll end up running into the arms of a serial killer. Or worse: some creepy janitor just waiting to cop a feel from unsuspecting women looking for the bathroom. Yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about that door on the bus ride back to school. Now, seven hours later, here I was, back in Caylee's and my room wearing a purple and black strapless sweater bust bubble dress with classic black heels (very Audrey Hepburn meets Pussycat dolls) wanting nothing more than to skip the millionth night club that we were going to con our way into entering for free, and walk back to the museum instead. Not that I would have, but compared to the plethora of guys who would no doubt try to feel me up at this club, one creepy janitor with trembling hands and arthritis was almost a relief.

"Portia," Caylee said as she emerged from our bathroom wearing a black sequined tank top with metallic silver leggings and carrying a cup of cappuccino, "you know what your problem is?" I was sure that she would tell me anyway, so I remained silent. "Your problem is that you act too old! And don't try to deny it," she said when I sucked in a breath to protest. "I mean, only you could turn being alone on a fieldtrip with a hot guy into a near death experience. And, ok, so that hottie was your ex, but if it were Chase and me in that situation, we like so would have been made up and making out by now." I sank down to my bed and stared out of the window.

"Caylee, I agreed to go to this thing ok? I don't need another lecture about my lack of social skills. Not from you. I expect it from Gessie maybe, and definitely Daphne, but you're supposed to be like my sister."

"Look Portia," she said dragging our swivel computer chair in front of my bed so that she could sit and face me. "I know that you have been having a hard time lately, what with not being able to see your dad during his R&R, and now this mess with Jordan, but you can't turn yourself into a nun because of it. Jordan most certainly isn't joining any monasteries anytime soon, so why should you?" I didn't feel the need to point out that nuns live in convents. She would just have accused me of trying to change the subject. Seeing my annoyed look she added, "All I'm trying to say is that you need to have more fun, and don't count him out. You may not be the only girl that he sees, but you're the only one that he keeps coming back to. And him always being there for you has to count for something." I was not sure whether I should slap her for perpetually ignoring our talks about feminism or to hug her for at least attempting to be helpful, even if her deafening cheers for team Portia/Jordan were well past getting on my nerves.

I settled for grabbing my purse and key card, and walking down to the student mezzanine, which was really just fancy name for the rec room where all of the students at R.A.H.S. boarding school watched movies and held club meetings.

Drew and some other guys were watching an all night viewing of _Tales from the Dark Side_. Upon seeing me, he sauntered over to where I was standing.

"Are you ok Portia? You disappeared at the museum earlier, and when you finally got back to the bus, you weren't looking quite well." Great, just what every girl wants to hear. "If I made you uncomfortable earlier, by putting you in the middle of Daphne and my relationship, then I deeply apologize. I just feel that you are every bit as much my friend as hers, and I—" I held up a hand to silence him.

"It's fine. Really. My little vanishing act had nothing to do with you. Well mostly." I tried to smile so that he would know that I was serious, but he didn't look reassured. Luckily for me, Caylee chose that precise moment to enter the room and fling her arms around Drew's neck in a manner that suggested that what she had been drinking in our room was not cappuccino after all. Drew, stunned into silence, started blinking rapidly. I could tell that he was not all that used to tipsy girls and their flirty ways, but he recovered enough to wrap his arms around her in an embrace that was a little too close for my taste. But what did I know?

After a few seconds, she kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry Drewy. Your dream girl will come to her senses. How could she not?" She then grabbed my arm and waltzed out of the building, leaving a dazed Drew with a pink lip print on his cheek and me with a feeling that I was not the only one who had been contemplating opening a door to forbidden territory.


	5. Portia: The Fire Below

**CHAPTER 5**: Portia – The Fire Below

When we arrived at La Angelita Negra, our friends had already secured a table in the VIP section and were working on their second round of drinks. I couldn't help noticing that Caylee's boyfriend Chase Adams was working on a round of bar wenches, as the present one was sitting on his lap and swaying very wobbly to some Bachata mix that the DJ was playing. As soon as Caylee saw this display, she promptly walked over to Chase and proceeded to cause a scene that would have made Lindsey Lohan proud. I walked over to the other side of the couch and sat down between Gessie and Daphne.

"We saved you guys some drinks. Virgin Shirley Temple right?" Gessie screamed/slirred over the pulsating music.

"Yeah, thanks Gess."

"Ha ha, ironic isn't it? Virgin for the virgin!" Daphne threw her head back and laughed like this joke was the funniest thing in the world. Jordan, who was sitting between Gessie and Chase's bar wench, winked at me and smirked. I was so ready to leave, but I rolled my eyes and sipped my drink instead.

"Aw, Portia, you know that Daph is only fooling with you. She's just being a witch, because that hottie-tot bartender over there stopped looking at her the minute that you walked in. Right Daph?"

"He did not. Plus, she knows that I don't mean anything by it." Daphne said as Caylee came over to the table in a puddle of tears and self-pitty. Aparently, Chase had blamed this week's infidelities on the five invisible pounds that Caylee had gained and suggested that she curb her food cravings by chewing on a piece of his anatomy that I do not care to elaborate upon.

"Ay, don't cry mija. Ooh, I love this song! Come dance with me" Gessie squealed and pulled a distraught Caylee with her. When they were gone, I leaned into Daphne so that no one would hear what I had to say.

"Drew knows what you're doing behind his back, Daph. He knows and he keeps asking me questions."

"And?" she replied, capturing her next conquest's eyes in a bold stare.

"And I'm not going to keep evading his questions or lying for you. The next time that he questions where you are and who you're with, I'm going to tell him." That got her attention and she glared down at me.

"Look, my relationships are none of your business. No one asked you to lie for me. You did what you always do and played Little Miss Fix-it. Well, you know what? Maybe if you weren't such a prude, you wouldn't be worried about everyone else." Then she slid out from the table. "Ugh, this conversation is boring me. Dance with me Jordan." By now, she was already making her way to the dance floor.

Before getting up to join Daphne, Jordan leaned into me and said, "When I get back, we can put an end to those pesky little rumors." Then he was gone. And I had fully had enough harassment for one night.

I told myself that I was just going to take a walk through the city center and then go back to R.A.H.S. That I would change into my flannel boxer short and camisole set and watch _Tales of the Dark Side _with Drew in the mezzanine. Or maybe even start working on my bio paper that was due on Monday. I told myself that I did not need any more trouble. But I told myself all of this while prying open a basement window in the Esperaza City Museum.

Inside the basement, I found a small flashlight and made my way up the stairs to the main floor. I knew that I was not really disproving that whole 'I'm not stupid' declaration that I had made earlier, but I just could not stay away. It was as if something was calling to me. I walked to the front lobby and looked around. Despite, the creepiness of being alone in a dark, quiet place at night, this museum was still my most favorite place in the world. The feel of the rough canvas, the simplicity of the subtle black frame, and the smell of the paint and turpentine was intoxicating. Slowly, a feeling of peace crept over me, and my heart rate began to slow down to its normal pace.

And then a hand closed around my wrist as a smoothly accented baritone breathed, "Trespassing is an illegal offense. An offense that I cannot let go unnoticed."


	6. Portia: Closing In

**CHAPTER 6**: Portia – Closing In

Ok, first off: I don't like being touched. Oh, it's not that I'm a germophobe or anything and have to wash my hands like twenty times after a single handshake; I just don't like being grabbed, which is probably what spawned those rumors and talk of my virginity. But more specifically, I don't like feeling trapped, and despite the openness of the museum lobby, the hand encircling my arm was making me feel as if the walls were closing in. Readying myself to knee him in the groin, I followed my eyes up the arm and into the face of my captor. My breath immediately caught inside of my chest and caused my heart to slam so hard against my ribcage that I almost fell over. The hand that held me so firmly from escaping a minute ago was now holding me up from falling over. Embarrassed, I yanked my arm away from this mystery man and backed into the wall for support. Surprisingly, he extracted his deep olive toned arm and held up his hands in an 'I surrender' pose. His hazel green eyes flashed with amusement, and he intensified that look by raising one of his black eyebrows.

"Is there a problem señorita? Seeing as how you like touching things that do not belong to you, I didn't take you for one so squeamish," he said in that stupid liquid voice of his.

"First off, I'm not your senorita! And second of all, don't ever touch me again!" I hissed. I was not sure whether it was fear that was making me so feisty, or the fact that this guy looked to be only a few years older than me.

"¿Perdóname? You do realize that it was you who were trespassing on my property and not the other way around, right?"

"Correction Stalker, I was trespassing on _public_ property. And seeing as how you're obviously some graffiti artist or thief who is doing the same, I'm not really sure how you can judge me." Or touch me, I mentally added.

"One, this public property of which you speak is closed to the public after ten. Two, I live here, which means that you are trespassing into my home. And three, my name is Javier, not Stalker."

"Well Javi, since you're obviously insane enough to believe that you actually live in a museum, I guess that it's time for me to leave," I backed away slowly, but never took my eyes off of him. What? It isn't wise to take your eyes off of a stranger. Not wise at all. Only he was not finished with me.

"I do not believe that you will be going anywhere," he stated matter- of- factly. "At least not that way." Then he turned to leave.

"Then I'll go back through the basement!" I walked straight ahead so that I could find the descending stairs.

"You'll trigger the silent alarm again, and I will not turn it off a second time. The police will be here in five seconds flat. Adios Hermosa." He continued to walk up the same spiral stair case that my friends and I had used earlier today to get to the fourth floor. The same floor that held that mysterious door.

Reluctantly, I looked up after him and asked, "Then where?" He stopped at the top of the first floor and blinked those impossibly long eyelashes down at me. His gaze was intense, losing all traces of the mocking humor and amusement that I had become accustomed to them holding. When he had spoken to me, his voice was quiet, suggesting that he was normally an introvert who spoke only when he had something to say. But the look in his eyes now was anything but shy. It housed a kind of confidence that came from silence and something else that I could not place. He held me in suspense for what seemed like hours before flashing a devilish grin and said, "Come and find out."

Every cell in my brain screamed for me to run back the way that I had come and risk being arrested, but I didn't want to get my dad in trouble with his commander from Afganistan, just because my nosing around had finally gotten the best of me, so I followed Javier up the spiral staircase. We rounded so many corners that it was hard to tell where we were, but all question was lost when he stopped to unlock the door to his 'house'. It was the same door with that fire garden painted onto it.

As much as I had wanted to know what this door hid earlier, I was not all that excited to be coming face to face with my answer. Sensing my trepidation, Javier stood in the doorway and held out a hand for me to take. Instead, I felt for the phone in my purse and pushed past him. The room before me was a medium sized studio apartment with a green couch pushed against the right wall and a small open kitchen on the left. Against the equally green kitchen bar leaned an easel onto which a painting of an eye inside of a keyhole lay. A large window faced the entrance of the room and showcased a fire escape. Beyond the living room/kitchen was a bathroom and what I guess to be a bedroom. In the middle of the low ceiling was a light bulb hanging from a chain. Javier pulled a long string and the half blown bulb spilled yellow light into the dingy room. Somehow, Javier looked at home and out of place at the same time.

"Would you like some water?"

"I'd like to leave," I answered, and then sank down to the dingy couch when he walked to the refrigerator. He fetched the water from the kitchen and lifted his shirt a little so that he could twist off the cap. Peeking out from under his t-shirt was a set of abs so hard that they could have cut diamonds. I am not normally the type to stare, but I must have been doing so, because Javier's eyes followed my gaze, and he let go of his shirt in order to bashfully run a large hand through his curly hair. I couldn't help noticing that his biceps were just as cut. Not too big, but not too small either. Grapfruits, I thought. Then mentally slapped myself.

As he handed me the water, his fingers brushed mine a little. I was feeling more claustrophobic than ever, and jumped up. "I need to go, now!"

"No one is stopping you. The window is right there." He smiled, seeming to have recovered from his shyness.

"And how do I know that you won't just lurk in the shadows and follow me home?"

"I guess you don't," he smirked. And then he put both of his hands on the window sill behind me, enclosing me in his arms without touching me. His face was just inches away from mine. "I'll be seeing you soon, Portia." Then he opened the window for me to leave.

He exhibited none of the characteristics that I had always been led to believe that criminals possessed. And yet…

...I was quite sure that I hadn't given him my name once.


	7. Javier: Dangerous

**CHAPTER 7**: Javier – Dangerous

How could I have been so stupid? All I had wanted was to be near her; to hear her voice up close and maybe even be the reason for the sound. Never did I plan to tell her my name, and showing her my apartment was strictly out of the question. I had been so careful to stay in the shadows for such a long time that even I was starting not to recognize my former self. But frankly, I was getting a little tired of lying and being alone. Of course, seeing her with her classmates every other week and then sneaking in after hours every night did not help matters.

Originally, she was just a pretty face: someone to watch from afar and admire. On days when work was slow or I needed something to help me fall asleep, I would watch her and wonder what could have been if we were two different people who had met under better circumstances. That was all that she was, and if it took every breath in me, I would make sure that that is what she would stay. A beautiful distraction.

I sat down onto a bar stool and placed my newest project on my easel, setting the current one onto the bar. I closed my eyes and let the idea come to me. _Portia_ my mind screamed. Right before she had left, I had said her name. I had let on to the fact that I knew more about her than I should have. At, the time, I had done so on purpose in order to scare her away; make her think that I was crazy so that she would never come back here and never tell anyone about me. Never mind the fact that I only knew her name because I had heard it today when I was looking out of the key hole. I had not meant to eavesdrop, but when one lives in secret, he has to be very aware of his surroundings. What is spying to everyone else becomes a mode of survival for some. But now, I was regretting those actions.

She is the first person, besides Mr. Molina, the proprietor of this museum, and my boss, that I have spoken to in a very long time and it felt good. Better than good.

Giving up on my painting, I went to take a shower. I figured that a bit of hot water and some sleep would make me feel like myself again. Well, the me that I had learned to become. I let the water run deep and hot enough to scald, causing a stab of pain to my hand every time that it hit the place where Portia had yanked her wrist from my grasp and scratched me. We had only had one conversation and already this girl had gotten under my skin and was causing pain. Literally.

After my shower, I grabbed a bucket of white paint and a paintbrush and walked to my front door. If I couldn't keep Portia from coming to my mind, then I would do everything that I could to keep from away from my door. I had seen the look on her face when she and I had arrived at my apartment. It was a look of familiarity. She had remembered the painting on the front of the door from earlier when that boy had cornered her in my hallway. The question; however, is why she still decided to come in? What young girl in her right mind would enter into the apartment of a strange man by herself? I could have been dangerous. That is when I saw her purse still lying on my couch. She must have left it here in her haste to leave. And just like that, I got a feeling inside of me that, despite my dire need to stay secluded, proved to be just that: dangerous.


	8. Portia: Admit One

**CHAPTER **8: Portia – Admit One

On the walk home, I was seething with anger at everyone who had crossed my path tonight. I was mad at Caylee for dragging me to the night club in the first place. I was furious with Daphne and Jordan for being the reasons that I left the stupid club. I hated Javier the Stalker for giving me all of those prying looks and invading my personal space the way that he had. But mostly, I was angry with myself. Do not think for a second that I don't realize the danger that I had put myself in tonight. Because that is exactly what I had done. I had put my trust in a boy that I did not even know and had never met before today all because he was gorgeous. I had done practically the same thing with Jordan. Now, here I was, walking through strange streets in the middle of the night, watching to see if that same cutie was hiding in the shadows just waiting to attack me. And for what? I had been approached by hot guys before. _Not like him,_ an annoying voice inside of my head argued. Oh, yeah! I so hated myself tonight.

When I had gotten back to R.A.H.S. and into my room, Caylee was already there. "Where have you been Portia? Yeah, she just got in," she said jumping up and slamming the phone down. "Gesse and I have been worried sick about you. We've been calling your cell phone all night. In fact, let me call her and tell her that you're finally here."

"Wait, who were you just talking to on the phone?"

"Well, when you disappeared from the club, Gesse and I decided that you must have come back here. But then we tried your cell and you didn't pick up, so we called Drew and asked him to check on you. Needless to say, when you weren't here, he freaked out, and I came back to help him look for you." She was adverting my eyes, which let me know that she was hiding something, but since I was not the pentacle of truth tonight either, I did not press her for information. "So?" She asked with one arched eyebrow raised. "Where did you go?" I looked through my drawers and spotted my plaid boxer and camisole set.

"Oh, you know," I vaguely stated while grabbing the boxer set and making my way to our bathroom. "I took a walk around the city and must have lost track of time."

"Then why didn't you pick up your cell, and where is your bag?" She asked me, growing more suspicious with each question. I looked around the room, searching for my bag. Now that I thought about it, I didn't remember having my purse on the walk back to school after fleeing from the museum. Frantically, I scanned the room for my cell phone and found it on the window sill where I put it after the field trip today. My wallet was also on the window sill, so as far as I was concerned, a few sticks of gum and some nude lip gloss were not reasons for immediate action; or any action at all. And if my purse was anywhere in the vicinity of Javier the Stalker, then that is exactly where it could stay.

Seeing my gaze toward the cell phone, she gave me one last worried look and proceeded to call Gesse. I took her dismissal as my cue to take a shower.

"Settle down class!" Ms. Avery, my World History teacher screamed. It was first period on Day 1 of R.A.H.S's block scheduling and the Monday that my bio report was due. I really needed to go to the computer lab to finish it, but due to this class's lack of focus, I don't think that Ms. Avery will be too receptive to yet another distraction. I sat in my chair and tried to look interested in the lecture or at least take notes so that I wouldn't fail the pop quiz that was sure to come the next time that we had this class when my phone vibrated, signaling a text.

Daph nt here n r wrksht n her lockr. Can u get it? Plz?

I looked over at Caylee who was smiling apologetically at me in an '_I'll totally owe you one_ type of way. Preparing myself for the wrath of Avery, I raised my hand and asked for the bathroom pass. The older woman blinked twice and then handed me a pass, going back to her notes on the chalkboard. I took the pass and walked down the hall to fetch Caylee's and my notes from Daphne's locker. Daphne had skipped classes today claiming that she was still a bit hung over fromm Friday and Saturday night's club rituals. The inside of her locker was pretty much everything that was to be expected from Daphne, pictures of male celebrities in magnetic frames on the walls, a little black book of all of her conquests in the far left corner, a picture of her and Drew at the winter formal (no doubt just a ploy to please him so that he would keep doing her homework), and some textbooks and notes stacked haphazardly. I grabbed the World History worksheet that Caylee and I had let Daph copy and was about to close the locker, when a note fell out. I knew that it was wrong to look at another person's private notes, but to tell you the truth, I was a bit surprised to see one lying so boldly out in the open. And yes, it was in her locker, but who passes notes anymore? Especially a person like Daphne, who prides herself on her ability to sneak around undetected. She's like a stealth bomber that girl. So seeing as how this not was such an unexpected sight, I could not resist opening it. I was not prepared, however, for what I found inside. The note read:

Portia will not be telling anything to Andork so long as my dad is commander and her father is his soldier. We wouldn't want daddy to get in trouble because his little girl couldn't follow the rules now would we?

Always,

Jordan

I dropped the note as if it were on fire. Or maybe it was. And I had just been burned by the betrayal of lies. Yet, I was more confused than mad. It was one thing for Jordan to try and blackmail me into being his personal cheerleader and using me to do his bidding whenever boredom struck, but it was another thing entirely to involve my friends. And speaking of, what was up with Daphne? Because, despite our little disagreement last night, that was exactly what we had been: friends. Or at least I had thought that was what we were. Now, I did not know what to believe, but you can rest assured that I was going to get to the bottom of things after cheerleading practice this afternoon.

When I had gotten back in class, Ms. Avery was in the middle of a full-on rampage. "For the last sixteen and a half weeks, you people have sat there before me and purposely ignored every lecture on history and war that has seeped from my lips And I, for the most part, have let you skate through my class with unimpressive memorization skills and a vast amount of ignorance, because, at the end of the day, my paycheck remains the same. For that, I take full responsibility; however, if I had known that majority of you would go so far as to give irresponsible excuses for not completing your letter writing assignments to the soldiers in fighting the war in Afghanistan, one that many of your mothers and fathers are fighting at this very moment, and then have the unmitigated audacity to sleep in class when I am showing you the live broadcasting of the president announcing the possibility of a war outbreak in the very country that you are in at this moment, then I feel as if there is only one thing left to say to you all. Look to your right. Now, look to your left. Memorize the faces of the people whom many of you disrespect my class in order to socialize with, because one of you will not be here if a war shall erupt in this country. I guarantee it." And with that declaration, the bell rang and she stalked out of the room.

"She just flipped out, right Portia?" Caylee was explaining Ms. Avery's outburst to Gesse and the now present but still very hung-over Daphne while her boyfriend Chase was replacing her chili cheese fries with a lean salad; sans dressing.

"It was something like that, but I mean there were people literally sitting on the desks in the back of the room. Some of them were even talking on their phones" I replied laughing.

"Still," she continued, unrelenting, "all that doom and gloom war crap was not cool. Scared poor Emma Smitts half to death. Plus, with the way that she smokes, she's lucky if she'll be here next year, let alone if a war breaks out." This conversation lasted throughout the rest of lunch and into Mr. Sebastian's eleventh grade biology class. Everyone liked Mr. Sebastian who, unlike other teachers, actually made his class interesting, surprising the dumber of us students when they had actually learned something from his quirky lectures instead of laughing at Mr. S's lame jokes like they all thought that they were.

Because of the president's press conference today, Mr. S pushed the bio papers back to Wednesday in order to show a video on the consequences of warfare on the environment. At that moment, Amber Levesque and her faithful side kick Daniella Monroe leaned over to me and asked, "Is it true that you tried to get back with Jordan at a club but he blew you off for Daphne?"

I looked at the two sluts and said calmly, "If you two don't sit back and turn around, I will air that little tape that you two made during the Friday night movie fest, understand?" They sat back and focused on the movie, letting me know that my vicious guess about their relationship had been correct. What they did not know was that I did not care what they did in their spare time.

The last bell of the day signaled the end of classes and the start of cheerleading practice. We had a pep rally on Friday and were nowhere close to being ready for it. That day, the basketball team was practicing in the gym as well, so we were confined to a small space. After doing three sets of fifty suicides,100 bleacher runs, and ten minutes of intense stretching, the basketball team left and we were given full range of the gym. Ten minutes before the end of practice, Daphne pulled me aside.

"Portia, I didn't mean to snap at you back at the club on Friday, but you really shouldn't have been in my business. I feel guilty about Drew and all, but let him and me handle it ok? Now, I need to leave practice, but I promise that I'll stay the full time tomorrow." She got ready to walk away, but I stopped her.

"No one leaves until practice is over and I didn't end practice yet. So, unless you have a good excuse, I suggest that you get back into position."

A look that I couldn't read flashed into her eyes before she said, "Well, if you must know, I need to stop your ex from blackmailing you," and walked out.

Drained from practice, I walked into the mezzanine to get a peach-tangerine soda before heading up to my room to finish my bio paper. Tawny Rodgers, a senior was working in the office as usual and motioned for me to come inside. "Hey, Portia," she said in her thick New Jersey accent. "Some guy dropped this off for you today. Didn't look like he was a student either. Tall, Latin, gorgeous, accent to die for, and eyes that could catch you when you fall. Don't know where you met him, but I sure wish that I had been there when you did." In her hands was my purse. The same purse that I had left at Javier's apartment the other night. I was certain that he hadn't followed me home, but then how did he know where I lived, especially when I hadn't left any identification in my purse? Then I looked inside the purse and found a note:

I suppose that I am not doing much to dissuade your opinion of me being a stalker. But maybe I am not trying to. Because maybe it is better that you hold onto your fear.

Cuidate,

Javier

The back of the note held a message even more terrifying as it was had led him straight to me. I immediately remembered the one and only other time that I had carried that purse as I looked at the flowery red words: Roscoe American High School Homecoming Dance- Admit One.


	9. Javier: Close Encounters

**CHAPTER 9**: Javier – Close Encounters

After returning Portia's bag to the young lady at the front desk of her school, I decided to take a walk around the city. The Esperanza city Carnival de los Santos was set to begin in a couple of weeks, and everywhere that one looked, people were buzzing about, getting ready for the festivities. I walked around the backstreets and alleyways, watching the preparation and letting my mind drift back to childhood memories of my family and friends' families doing the very same thing. I saw myself as a young boy of seven playing with the streamers with all of my friends, while our parents would try to shoo us away. I continued to walk, taking my journey into the past as I did, to a bakery around the corner. The matron of the bakery was named Doña Cicero, but all of the children called her Tía Lucinda. She would make all of the desserts that my family would take over to the fiesta, and on days when she had little help around the shop, she would let my brothers, friends, and I help her in the kitchen.

The bakery was a mall store front shop with large windows that spanned the entire front wall, warm golden light radiating on the inside, and the sweetest chocolates and breads that one could ever imagine. Her specialty was her chili spiced brownies: a warm white chocolate brownie covered in chili spiced chocolate fudge and topped with cinnamon sugar. I deeply longed to sneak into the store that just thirteen years ago I had been welcome. But I had to remember that even though, I was not seven anymore, Tía Lucinda would still recognize me, and all of my hiding these past three years would have been all for naught. At the ripe age of eighty-two, the woman still possessed the sharpest eyes in town. And the quickest tongue too. If I paid her a visit, she would surely recognize me and the whole town would know that she was seeing the impossible as if the woman were seeing a ghost. The air would be thick with question, and I had no doubt that every door in the village would be knocked on in search of answers, including mine.

Instead, I went to the fountain that I used to play in as a child. The marble fountain sat atop a hill and from it, one could see the whole village, including the boarding school that was originally built in 1850 for boys. This fountain had the perfect proximity to the museum, the school, and all of the festivities that would be taking place in just a few short weeks. Sitting there in serenity with the sound of the rushing water behind me, I wanted to stay forever, but I knew that I had better get back to the museum for the last four hours of my shift before Mr. Molina realized that I had been gone for longer than the five minutes that I had originally promised in order to return Portia's purse. I stood up to leave, and saw a figure standing in front of me. It was her. And I should have just turned and walked away.

She stood in front of me, blocking the sun in a way that made her hair look like a sandy brown halo. The look on her face, however, was anything but angelic. And her fists, bawled up at her side, showed that she was looking for trouble and was glad to see that she had found him.

"Just what the hell do you are doing showing up at my school?"

"Didn't you get your bag back from that girl in the office?" I smirked at her. It only appeared to make her madder.

"Do not try to be cute with me Javi! What the hell were you doing there?"

"You think that I'm cute?" I was purposely evading her questions, because even with the limited knowledge of her personality, I knew that telling her the truth: that I was hoping to run into her while I was there (even though I was praying to the Heavens that I would not), that she would probably threaten me and then leave.

"Damnit!" She screamed. "Just tell me what you want!"

"Can't I just do something nice, because it is the right thing to do?"

"Guys who look like you do not do nice things without expecting something in return," she retorted with a frown. Here annoyance was waning, and now that she knew that she was not in any danger of me stalking her, she was ready to leave. She turned to walk away, but I grabbed her arm first. She looked down at my hand and then up at my eyes.

"Don't touch me!" She gasped, grabbing my arm with the hand that I was not holding.

"Sorry. I just... won't you come and take a walk with me?"

"Hmm, I can't think of anything that I would rather do less."

"And why is that?" I asked, knowing that it was time to get back to the museum now.

"Because in case you are slow, or just don't care to remember, I don't know you. And I can't say that I want to either.

"Is that so?" I asked raising my eyebrow in amusement. She looked indignant.

"Very," she huffed.

Then why are you still holding my hand?" She was stunned into silence, which only continued when I bent down to kiss the hand that was still around my own. "Have a nice night Portia." I left feeling warmed by the hole that her eyes were burning into my back.


	10. Portia: Secrets Collide

**CHAPTER 10**: Portia – Secrets Collide

I had finally realized what Javier was: a sociopath. Think about it: he lived like a hermit in a museum, stalked innocent girls who went to said museum after hours, and then had the nerve to think that those broad shoulders, curly black hair, Hispanic-heartthrob thing was working for him. But it so was not. Well, I mean, it was (I was after all, a sixteen year old girl who was quite fond of the opposite sex), but he was crazy if he thought that I was going to let that fact deter me from my initial instinct to stay away from him. Granted he seemed to only want to cause my irritation and not my demise, but one never knew the intentions of another. It was these thoughts that had kept me up all night instead of doing my bio paper that was now due on Wednesday, which is why I am sitting in the computer lab during seminar, which is what we at R.A.H.S call homeroom. It is the last class on Day 2, and is directly after aft. Well, for me anyway. My seminar teacher was Ms. Avery, who was not here today. The substitute was so happy that I had asked for a computer lab pass, giving her one less student to pretend to watch while she really talks on her cell phone, that she practically threw it at me and shoved me out of the door. I sat staring at my computer screen trying to describe the function of ATP in plant cells when a chair came sidling up to mine. It was Jordan. I was so not in the mood for yet another psychopathic guy right now. What I did want to know, however, was why all of the boys in my life right now seemed to take my annoyance and disdain for flirting.

"Portia, you look ravishing today," Jordan said. Ravishing? The basketball coach must have used that word or something, because I was sure that he could not have come up with it on his own.

"Oh, and I'm sure that you are only too willing to ravish me."

"Is that an invitation?" He leered lasciviously at me. I wanted badly to throw up right in the computer lab. In front of everyone. Then maybe he would take my abhorrence seriously.

"Can we not do this today? As much as I usually enjoy your impromptu badgering, I really have to get this done. Not everyone has a coach who will get her out of doing school work like you do." I smiled prettily up at him before turning back to the screen. Before I could type anything however, he swung my chair around to face him.

"Speaking of having people at my beck and call, you remember my father right, your father's commander?"

"How could I forget?" I knew where this was going. Bring on the round of vague threats.

"Then let me get to the point. I saw you talking to that guy last night. The one on the hilltop by the fountain."

"So?" I don't know what he thought that he had on me, but since I hadn't done anything that was his business, I was not concerned with what he thought.

"So, I don't think that daddy would like it if his little girl was being friendly with the enemy when this country is on the brink of war with the same one for which he serves. And I know that my dad would take too kindly to knowing that his son's ice-bitch of an ex girlfriend broke said son's heart to be with the enemy. Do you?" These threats were starting to get a bit ridiculous now.

"You would have to have a heart in order for it to break, Jordan." He put his deep chocolate colored hands across his well formed chest and feigned emotion.

"See Portia? That is something that only you know about me. Doesn't that prove that we were meant to be together."

"Since when is talking to someone being friendly? Because that is all that went on last night. Just talking"

"Is that why he was kissing your hand then?" He then took out his cell phone and showed me a picture of Javier kissing my hand. That picture, along with a phone call to his dad stating how I had ignored his warnings to each military family to avoid the civilians of this country, and my dad would catch hell. Satisfied with my dejected look, he sneered at me and asked, "Do we have an understanding?" He was already heading out of the computer lab before I got the chance to answer, because once again, he expected to get what he wanted. But I would be damned if he won again.

Two hours later, I had finished my paper and was heading back up to my room. I know that it is really irresponsible for the head cheerleader to miss practice, but seeing as how I had done so in order to do homework, I did not really think that my missing had really counted as ditching. When I entered the room, I found Caylee and Gessie on the floor eating a tub of chocolate ice cream and trying to glue pieces of colored sticky notes onto a giant poster board. They looked up when I can in, and offered me a tub of vanilla and a spoon.

"What is this for?" I asked, taking the ice cream and spoon.

"Daphne was in the computer lab during seminar. Saw the whole thing." I didn't have to ask Caylee to what she referring, because there was really one thing that had happened to me today. But really, didn't they have better things to talk about? I mean, I loved them, especially Caylee, but geez. Get lives, please!

So, what were you two fighting about anyway?" Daphne asked from her perch on my bed. She was painting her toenails and making a face at all of the sweets that the two girls on the floor were sharing. As one who aspired to be the wife of a pro sports player or rich old man, she had to watch her figure. Or something shallow like that.

"Nothing much. He was just issuing another round of ridiculous riddles that only he understands." She eyed me oddly, before moving her nail polish so that I could sit down. "What are they doing?" I asked.

"Gesse's getting started on some assignment. You know how she is. Always starts things a month ahead."

"For your information, Ms. Daph, it's due in three weeks. Not a month. And it's a flow chart for media production. Which you would know if you paid attention in class," she teased. Daphne rolled her eyes and then focused them on me.

"So, girl, guess what? I just ordered the sexiest pair of stilettos! Manolo's too! They should be here in time for Mariah Samson's birthday party at La Culpa." She actually giggled at me like a little kid, and it was hard not to laugh with her. She was great for de-stressing. When she wasn't being a bitch that is.

Caylee slapped the last piece of paper down on the board and then jumped up.

"Why don't we go to the mezzanine and watch a movie or something?" she asked.

"Oh, can't!" Daphne said nearly choking on a piece of ice that she was sucking on. "Drew will probably be down there and I'm kinda avoiding him."

"Daphne, you promised that you would break up with him," I sighed. This drama was really getting out of hand.

"And you promise to stay out of it," she said crunching her ice.

"Well, I'm sure in need of some cinematic therapy." Gessie said as she, Caylee, and I made our ways to the door. We were stopped when a knock suddenly sounded. I opened the door a crack, only to find Drew standing there.

"Hey, Portia. Is Caylee in there? I need to talk to about Daph—" He never finished his sentence because at that moment, Gessie had pulled the door all the way open so that Drew and Daphne were facing each other. Caylee's face going even white with fear was the last thing that we saw before Gessie and I closed the door and ran to the mezzanine.


	11. Javier: War Was Her Name

**CHAPTER 11**: Javier – War Was Her Name

Silent voices speak volumes

About a battle so catastrophic

That it yielded no survivors;

And though no one knows of its validity,

Accusation is the only necessary proof

That my people seek.

They whisper once about this tragedy

Then, the rest they refuse to tell,

But a seer of the future says the prediction plays out well.

My quiet life, though lonely,

Is paradise.

This battle would be a deafening hell

That threatens to expose me

And the secrets I've hidden so well.

If war could be personified,

There is no doubt that she would be a woman,

With a fury unforgiving;

Taking prisoner in whomever she caught.

Her beauty would be astounding,

Subtle, yet tempting all the same.

And many would fight for her,

But she would seduce me with her wit until it was my heart that she could claim.

The enemy is sneaky,

Camouflaged in the cleverest disguise

In order to gain the trust of every soldier

And be the cause of their demise.

Two of us watch her,

Him classifying the vanilla scent as weak,

Less treacherous,

And even safe

But as the smarter man, I know

That venom is always deadlier when it is

Sweet to the taste.


	12. Portia: Invisible

**CHAPTER 12**: Portia – Invisible

The weeks that followed the little showdown in mine and Caylee's room was filled with news broadcasts and articles in the paper forecasting of a possible war outbreak between Esperanza and the United States. Some teachers chose to utilize this event as an opportunity to bore us with assignments on _War and Peace_ and World Wars I and II in the feeble attempt at educating and preparing us for what they were sure would come. Others preferred to continue with their preplanned curriculums as if nothing were different and deal with this situation whenever it came. The students, on the other hand, were dealing with a war of their own, as parental visits were on the rise, and curfew was being more strictly enforced. This last part was undoubtedly good news to the Esperanzan people who lived close to this school, because they were not very fond of us quote unquote 'running amok' and causing mischief through the streets of their city. Conveniently they seem to forget how well their economy has benefited from our presence.

Parents from the next couple of towns came in abundance to visit their children and smother them with weekend trips to the local fish markets, and in more extravagant cases, weekend canal trips to Ecuador and Brazil. Notice, that I did not include myself in this group, because my mother would rather distract me with her father's wealth than actually spend any time with me. Heaven forbid, my narcissistic yet painfully co-dependent older sister be left alone for a few hours. She is only twenty-two after all. Anyway, these distractions were necessary whenever the other parent was rumored to receive orders for deployment. We did what we do best in times like this: focus on daily tasks in order to advert our attentions from our parents' possible danger. Who could help it if we chose to blow off steam by going to clubs after the parents had left? It wasn't like we were doing anything debaucherous. Or at least not any more so than Esperanzan kids. Which was exactly how I had found myself making plans with Caylee, Gessie, and Daphne to go to a new club tonight while we were supposed to be looking at pillars as Mr. Wall droned on about the museum's exquisite architecture.

It was one of those days that reeked of springtime: birds chirping, flowers in bloom, people running about getting ready for the carnival, and students thinking of how they could skip seminar and enjoy the day.

"So a new club opened up called _La Sucia_ and Daphne said that she could get us in tonight," Caylee said with her arms linked into mine. "Are you coming Portia?" Daphne asked.

"Daphne, how are you going to get us in for free?" I wasn't generally interested in her answer, but I indulged her for the sake of friendship.

"One of Daph's boyfriend's owns the club, and she's playing hostess to his host," Gessie answered and then winked at Daphne.

"For your info, Guillermo is my photographer, and I am going as a guest with you guys, not as his hostess. I am fully committed to Drew. Now." She winked at Caylee who subconsciously linked my arm a little tighter. In truth, Daphne had been completely faithful to Drew since she found him at our door looking for Caylee. She said that his willingness for confrontation in order to win her back, was hot beyond words, but I had always suspected that she was trying to keep him away from Caylee. Daphne, not being one to share her toys, could not have liked the fact that the two were getting so close, especially with Caylee and Chase being on the brink of a breakup. What I could not figure out, however, was Caylee's reaction upon hearing that Daph and Drew were doing better, because Caylee had always made it clear that she only had eyes for Chase. Even if those eyes were constantly watching his spy on other girls.

"Oh, she's definitely coming," Caylee yelled over her shoulder at Daphne and Gessie. "But first we need to talk about wardrobe stuff." She dragged me toward the stairs so that we could make our way to the fourth floor. My heart instantly sped up, and my palms got all sweaty. Attractive right? "So, have you talked to Jordan recently?" She was doing that thing where her eyes darted quickly around the room signifying that she was up to something.

"Caylee," I warned, my voice dripping with trepidation. This could not end well.

"What?"

"What did you do?"

"Well, your birthday is tomorrow, and I just thought that it would be nice to spend it with a friend."

"I am Caylee. Isn't that what this whole thing tonight is supposed to be?" She looked sheepishly through her eyelashes feeling guilty for letting me know about my birthday party at the club opening tonight. As if we did not always throw "surprise" birthday parties for each other that were never really surprises.

"I just thought that since, we are all doing this tonight, that you and Jordan could reconcile tomorrow on your actual birthday. Wouldn't that be so romantic Portia?" I mentally counted all of the things that would be way more appealing on my birthday, such as falling down a flight of stairs or a natural disaster. I was about to state my case, when she nudged me and whispered, "Portia, why does that guy over there keep staring at you?"

"Who are you talking about?" I asked, looking around.

"The hottie who hasn't stopped staring at you since we first walked in here." This time, I didn't even have to ask her who she was talking about. I blushed and hopped that the dim lights in the Egypt room hid it. It didn't.

"I don't know. He's probably just some worker or something.

"Oh, that reminds me: Tawny Rogers told me that some guy brought your purse by the office the other day. She wanted to know who he was and if you two were a couple, because if not, then she wanted his number," She raised an accusing eyebrow at me and my gaze involuntarily flickered to Javier. He stared right back with those freaky hazel green eyes of his, but continued sweeping the floor.

"How should I know?"

"Because your face is turning redder than my lips." She started to further interrogate me but stopped when she saw Chase and Daniela making out in the corner of the next room ahead. She rolled back the sleeves of her sheer T-shirt and stalked over to them. Needless to say, all conversation was forgotten.

Succumbing to the weight of his eyes, I made my way over to Javier. I told myself that my only reason for acknowledging his presence was to chastise him for making his presence so obvious. But it turns out; I didn't need to worry about that.

"Look Javi, before you think of following me around the museum with cryptic and stalker-like comments, remember that we are not even supposed to know each other." He looked over at a slightly older man with graying hair and goatee then back at me.

"I'm sorry Miss, but I have no idea what you are talking about." Then he walked away leaving me to wonder what the hell just happened.


	13. Portia: Seventeen Puke Covered Candles

**CHAPTER 13: **Portia- Seventeen Puke-Covered Candles

Ten hours later, I found myself in a smoky, over-crowded club that I didn't want to be in, sitting next to a self-absorbed ass that I didn't want to be with, still thinking about Javier's little disappearing act. Then suddenly, as if cued by the word "disappear," Jordan's perverted friend and team mate Eric Pulowski clumsily fell into the seat next to me, placed his and on my knee and slurred, "You shouldn't be sitting on the end of a leather chair on your birthday. You should be sitting on the end of my—''

"Hands off the merchandise Pulowski!" Jordan quipped, "You know I don't like my girls double dipped, especially by you." Eric held up his hands apologetically at Jordan while simultaneously puckering his chapped lips at me. I think that I may have thrown up a little in my mouth then, and not just because of the gesture, but more because of the memory that it had elicited.

We kissed once. Eric and I. It worked out pretty well. Better than all the rest of my relationships had in fact. He was drunk and at a club, as usual, and I had been dragged to a club in order to get over my most recent break up with Jordan. As usual. When he came on to me, I instantly saw his game, because to be frank: he didn't have any. It was a kiss filled with way too much tongue and tasted of sour milk and alcohol, but it was also a symbol of defiance. Of freedom. That's what I told myself anyway. In all actuality, it probably only happened because he was drunk, and I was in a skirt. And I was sad and wanted revenge.

We kissed once, and I never thought about it again. Now here he was, staring up expectantly at me through heavily lidded eyes. Only there wasn't enough alcohol or revenge in this world that could make Eric look like a good idea. Well, not again anyway. Luckily, my cell phone chose that exact moment to ring. I looked down at the screen and saw the word "unknown" name pop up. Since, only my dad calling from Afghanistan comes up as unknown, I immediately excused myself from the table, noticing for a second that Jordan too had seen the screen and looked concerned. Must be indigestion.

"Hey Poppie! How's my birthday girl?" My dad asked when I picked up the phone.

I looked from the seedy club that I was standing in front of, to the sinfully short dress that I was barely wearing, and answered, "Fine daddy. How are you?"

"Better now, and I have a surprise for you." I listened intently as he filled me in on how his unit had gotten pulled out of Afghanistan early to come back to Esperanza.

I squealed for about two seconds, enjoying the thought of possibly spending part of my birthday with him, before the disturbing reality dawned on me. All week, the teachers had been trying to prepare us for a possible war outbreak between the U.S. and Esperanza. Now, my dad was telling me that his unit was abruptly PCSing, which is just a fancy way of saying that they were moving, back to Esperanza. Did I forget to mention that this never happens? Well it doesn't, which is why I asked, "Dad, what's really going on? Because something tells me that you guys are not just coming back early because of a job well done."

"Poppie, you worry too much. Now, my redeployment ceremony will be on Monday, and I have to be on call for at least three days after I get back, but I'll be at Roscoe on Friday to pick you up from school for the weekend. Oops, the line for the phone is getting long, so I'll talk to you Friday." I was about to complain about his lack of information when he said, "Oh and Poppie Seed, we're also going to talk about your skipping curfew, understa—'' The line had gone dead, and I went back inside.

The rest of the night had pretty much gone downhill from there, as Eric had evidently continued to knock back vodka shots during my absence, causing him to vomit all over the cake that my friends had just brought out and knock over a suspiciously thick, black drink onto my dress. By this time, the wait staff was getting pretty annoyed with us, so Daphne apologized to her ex-whatever, and we headed for R.A.H.S.

On the way back, I stayed a few steps behind my friends, who were wasted and loving every moment of it. I wanted to be able to join in on the fun, but I was too worried about my dad to pretend that their jokes were funny, and too sober to actually find them funny. Jordan fell into step beside me, and for once, wasn't intent on making a bad situation worse.

"That was your dad on the phone wasn't it?" he asked.

"You tell me. Doesn't the commander tell you everything?" I sneered.

"Porsche, can't we just talk for a minute without the hostility?"

"Such a big word for such a small boy."'

"I'll take that as a no," he replied. Then looking almost sad, he added, "We used to be friends. What happened to the girl that I used to talk to on the phone for hours? The one who would get so excited when I called? I'm not the monster that you make me out to be, you know."

"Then why do you insist upon acting like one?"

"Why do you insist upon making me?" We stared at each other for a few seconds, neither of us saying a word, and for that moment, he was my friend again. The guy that I could playfully argue with and tell my problems to. Because that is what he used be: a guy who I could vent to, and sadly, he was a better listener than my girlfriends. But that boy had also taken all of those conversations and thrown them back into my face as a form of blackmail. I reminded him of this fact, to which he replied, "Have you ever stopped to think that I am trying to protect you, and blackmailing you is the only way to get you to talk to me?" I rolled my eyes and he continued, "I will admit that I screwed up our relationship. Sue me. I'm not perfect, but you weren't exactly innocent yourself. And you're not the only one with daddy issues." His jaw set into a bitter frown, and for a second I almost felt sorry for him.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Look, all I'm saying is that I know that you're worried about your dad, but at least you've got one who cares about you. Don't disappoint him, but getting yourself killed while sneaking around at night alone. Or worse, sneaking with," he looked around and sneered at the Esperanzan citizens who were walking to and from the fiesta grounds, "one of them.


	14. Portia: She Done Him Wrong

**CHAPTER 14:** Portia-She Done Her Wrong

I decided to play it safe the next day and stay at the dorms. The girls had turned the girls' locker room into a mini spa for me, complete with sauna (which was really just the community shower steamed up), assorted nail polishes, and skin products that would have made us worthy of a red-carpet event. Inside the sauna, Daphne stretched her long legs across my lap and said, "So I saw you and Jordan talking on the way back from the club? Are you two getting back together?" Gessie's ears perked up too, and Caylee, who had come back in the sauna from checking her phone for the millionth time, got excited.

"You and Jordan are getting back together? Oh, Portia! I knew that asking him to be your date last night would be a good idea."

"He was just asking me about my dad, who called while we were out." They scooted next to me as I told them about our parents' redeployment and the problems that could be its result.

"Do you guys think that there will really be a war?" Gessie asked to no one in particular.

"I don't know, but the boys are already getting prepared. I heard some of the basketball players talking about starting an escort service and keeping this school as American as possible" Daphne clarified, making quotation marks with her fingers.

"What does that mean?" Caylee wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"It means no more yummy exchange students or breaking curfew to go to the club." Gesse answered. Caylee balked at the thought and I felt the need to comfort her.

"Don't worry Cay, they'll come to their senses when they realize that the only other place to buy booze is the class six (a military liquor store) on the military base, which none of them are old enough to actually do." She seemed pretty content with this answer until Daphne got bit curious.

"Didn't Chase tell you about this?"

"Um…well…he's been really busy with stuff and I've been helping you guys with Portia's birthday party, so I guess we haven't really gotten a chance to talk." She stood up and headed toward the door.

"Then who have you been texting for the past hour?" Daphne calmly asked. I could tell that she was getting very suspicious, and we were all a bit curious as to why Caylee was making up such lame excuses.

But she quickly shut down any more chances for interrogation by opening the door and saying, "I was just checking the time. And wouldn't you know it, I've got to run." She motioned for me to follow her out of the sauna. When we were standing out of ear range, she whispered, "I'm so sorry to leave your spa party Portia, but I have to go do something. I'll make it up to you though." Then she kissed me on the cheek and left before I could even blink.

I didn't see Caylee for the rest of the day. Then again, I hadn't been in my room since this morning. After, the spa party, the girls and I had gone to the cafeteria to eat dinner, a feat that we usually tried to avoid. Only today, the kitchen staff had prepared some of my favorite foods: Chicken scampi with bell peppers and red onions, Tuscan salad, and Black Forest cake. It was amazing. And when it was over, we went to the Mezzanine to watch my favorite movie: Cruel Intentions. Initially, I thought that it was a bit strange that Drew and his friends were not down here watching _Battle Star Galactica_ or some other sci-fi flick, but I figured that Daphne must have told him about my make up birthday party and made him leave. So you could understand my surprise when she got up during the middle of the movie and called him. But he wouldn't get that call, because his cell phone lay in the corner of the room, echoing Daphne's frustration with every ring. Needless to say, the party was over, and decided that 10:45 pm on a Saturday was as good a time as any to go to sleep.

It couldn't have been more than three hours when I awoke with a start in the middle of the night to the sound to someone tapping on the window. Thinking that it was Caylee, coming back from wherever she had disappeared to earlier, I raised myself from the bed just enough so that I could open the window for her. Fear gripped my chest; however, when I saw Caylee tossing and turning lightly in her sleep in the bed next to mine. At that same time, a head rose up to window, and it took everything that I had not to scream right then and there.


	15. Portia: Keeps Getting Better

**CHAPTER 15: **Portia- Keeps Getting Better

My feelings of fear melted into those of extreme anger as the head came into full view, and I then wanted to scream for a completely different reason. I yanked open the window before the incessant tapping could wake up the whole dorm.

"Javi!" I whisper-yelled, "What the hell do you think that you are doing?" He shrugged, causing his body to lift a little into the window and then lower its self again. I couldn't help noticing his very admirable amount of body strength, and it made me wonder just how many heavy boxes one would have to lift in order to get biceps like his. I swear it's like my brain goes into auto pilot whenever he's around.

"Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and thought that it would be rude not to stop by and say hello."

"Oh really?" I retorted. "You just happened to be walking by the military kids' school? I thought that you didn't know me. Isn't that what you said at the museum yesterday?"

"No, I said that I did not know what you were talking about. There is a difference. And I thought that you did not want me talk to you."

"I don't, so get the hell off of my window seal before you wake up my roommate." Caylee rolled over at that very moment to announce that we had already done that. Great! Now I was going to have to explain why some strange man was climbing into our window. This night just kept getting better. Not.

"You should go. He sounds like a hottie, and if that's the guy from the museum yesterday, then his voice definitely matches his face." Javi chuckled at Caylee's comment, but because she was groggy, I wasn't sure how coherent she actually was.

"I thought that you were all 'Team Portia/Jordan. So why are you telling me to go out with another guy?" This question made her sit up and turn on the lamp that was sitting on the nightstand between our beds.

"First of all, I am not on any team but Team Portia-Needs-to-Have-More-Fun. And secondly, I know that if you caught me with some guy whom I should not be with, you'd be just as understanding." I eyed her warily as she threw me a short, red, sequined skirt, and turned off the light. "Wear a black tank top with it. Those are Esperanza's national colors." Ten minutes later, I emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and made up to perfection headed for God knows where with someone who I constantly tried avoiding.

We walked toward the festivities in a comfortable silence, enjoying the rhythms of a street band playing in the distance, but as we neared the fairgrounds of the Carnival I had to know.

"Why did you really invite me out tonight Javi?"

Blushing, he ran one of those large olive-colored hands through his thick waves and said, "Because I wanted to apologize for ignoring you yesterday. And I heard you and your blond friend talking about today being your birthday, so I thought it just made sense." For some reason, I believed him. Maybe it was the fact that this was the first time since I had known him, that he wasn't smirking or giving me half-answers. Or maybe it was the way he had clammed up and gotten all shy again on me. But I did. And I wanted to keep him this way, at least while I was stuck with him.

The carnival was in full swing and there were couples dancing, families eating, and old friends drinking the night away. We sat at one of the picnic tables that lined the river walk. The table was a bit secluded for my taste, as some of the nearby tree's limbs covered us from view. Yet, all was well when Javi fetched us a plate different Esperanzan foods.

"I call this plate El Mejor de Esperanza." Not one to shy away from free food, I grabbed the plate and looked for some kind of eating utensil. Javi, swatted my hand away from the plate when as asked for a spoon and proceeded to tell me that these dishes were finger foods.

"But there are sauces! How can a sauce be a finger food?"

He chuckled softly and explained, "These are salsas: mango, strawberry, and plantano. You do not eat them like soup with a spoon, but with solid foods." Then, as if to demonstrate, he picked up a piece of seasoned lamb, dipped into the mango salsa, and held it out to me. I reached for the meat, and he retracted his hands until I finally caught on to what he was trying to do. I put my hands down only because I was super hungry, and let him feed me the lamb; nearly choking when he thumb brushed my lip.

He dropped his hand and blushed again, obviously just as surprised as I was by the contact. We ate quietly, until a man in his late twenties came over to our table and asked me to dance. I glanced back at Javier, who nodded and told me to have fun. Which was exactly what I intended to do.

The man, whose name I soon discovered was Fausto, led me to the crowded street where others were dancing. The music was flowed through the air and rang off the trees around us as Fausto pushed and pulled me back to him. I couldn't really catch the rhythm, and to be honest, the dance was a bit strange. I couldn't even tell what it looked like we were doing, because it felt as if he were swinging me around like a rag doll. I guess that it was hot though, because a crowd started to form around us. Then, the song changed to something a bit slower; more hypnotic. Think Aventura's "Por Que No." A group of women dressed in traditional Esperanzan belly dancing attire took over the circle. I moved back so that they could dance, but one of the dancers grabbed me by the arm instead.

"You have bountiful hips! Move them like circle!" The dancer took my waist and moved it in a circular motion. It didn't take me long to catch on to what she was doing though, and she let me go. The dance was a mix of belly dancing moves, tango, and flamenco, all of which I was able to do thanks to Gesse and my _Veena and Neena: Belly Dance for Beginners_ DVD. I was feeling so high off of the music that I skipped over to Javier and pulled him to his feet. I could tell that he would rather have watched us dance, but he didn't protest. He even laughed a bit as I pretended to move his hips like the dancer had previously done to mine. He wasn't much of a dancer, but he had rhythm. Not that having rhythm is all that hard, when your only move is a side step, but still. For once, we were having a good time with each other. We danced, we laughed, and had way too many cups of something called _SangreAzul_. My head was buzzing and my eyes were watering due to its spiciness. It wasn't alcohol, but it should have been illegal just the same.

All in all, I had fun. No! We had fun. That's what I was thinking when I first heard the sirens. At first, I just thought that it was part of the music, because they weren't very loud and no one else had seemed affected by them. But then Javier froze in his tracks gripped my hips. I started to shrug out of his grasp when I noticed how pale his face had grown. I didn't want to admit how scared that I was becoming but he must have guessed how freaked out I was when I didn't protest to his leading me over to an obscure wall that shielded us from public view. From there, we could see as police officers raided the carnival and began to push people off of the streets. Children cried as vicious police dogs rushed after unsuspecting families. The street band forgot their instruments in a hurry to save their asses, and belly dancers fled in a flurry of red and black shimmer. Javier grabbed my hand and we ran all the way back to the museum. To the fourth floor. To his apartment!


	16. Javier: Screaming

**ATTENTION**: Hi all, this title is just a last minute thing and I'm not really sure how I feel about it, so if any of you have a suggestion for a title after you read this, then please feel free to leave me a comment. Enjoy!

**ALSO **I seemed to have accidently left out this last paragraph from Portia's story, so before I continue, here it is:

**CHAPTER 15 (continued): **Portia- Keeps Getting Better

Inside, I was so out of breath that I collapsed onto his green couch panting. He chucked a bottle of water at me and sat on the floor next to my head.

"I'm sorry about all of that, Portia. Police do not usually invade such holy celebrations as Carnival." He wasn't facing me, but his regret was still noticeable.

"What was all of that about anyway?"

"Two opposing sides from two different worlds insist upon destroying each other and everyone in their paths, when in all actuality, they have more in common than they think." When he saw my puzzled look, he restated, "It's not safe to be on the streets as long as there is talk of war in the air."

I don't know what made me do what I did next, but I told myself that after the horrendous birthday party my friends had thrown for me, it was nice to spend the rest of my birthday weekend in a state of carefree oblivion, even if I was in the company of the one person who frustrated me more than Jordan. Or maybe, it was because he sounded so sad. Either way, I felt compelled to simultaneously thank and comfort him, so I bent down to kiss him on the cheek. Only he was unaware of my sudden fit of gratitude and turned in my direction just in time to catch me as…

* * *

**CHAPTER 16: **Javier- Screaming

…her lips came crashing down upon mine.

The surprise of this action alone made me pull back from her, despite the fact that my body was cursing the decision. But I could not help it. Just when I thought that I had had her all figured out, she threw me for a loop. As far as girls went, I had seen them all. There were the ones who pretended not to notice you when they walked past in the hope that you will approach them first. Then there were the ones who secretly stared at you from under their overly made up eyelashes but would admonish the thought of actually talking to you for fear of ruining their reputations. Next, there were girls who flirted shamelessly, switching their developed hips and expecting you to follow the scent of their perfume because this tactic had worked so well before. And why should you be any different? And finally, there were the girls whose trust had been burned so badly that a tough skin and disapproving sneer were the only things that remained of them.

Portia, though devastating in looks, was nothing particularly special to me at first glance. She could easily be placed amongst these women because she embodied all of them. She surrounded herself within a group of shallow, spoiled brats who played with men as if they were rag dolls, and if the old saying was true—that birds of a feather really did flock together— then she would no doubt be the commissioner of their little games. And yes, I had watched her enough times to know that she was probably the deepest drop in their vapid puddle, but she was still just a pretty girl who allowed herself to be paraded around for the sake of popularity. She was entitled and yet modest, innocent yet seductive, and was ironically at her most vulnerable when she put on her toughest façade. I liked trying to get under her skin almost as much as she liked pretending that I wasn't succeeding, but I realized the danger that would surely ensue when she gave in. And she would give in. All of the beautiful ones give in eventually. Not surprisingly, the harder that I pursued her, the more that she denounced my presence. Even more predictably, once I pretended not to know her, she accepted my advances. It went against every lesson that my mother had ever taught me about treating a woman, but if being an ass would keep us both at a safe distance from each other, then that is what I would be.

She came with a lot of baggage and I was not exactly luggage free myself. I knew that she and I being together would be a costly mistake, and I did not want to drag her in the abyss of self pity and secrets that I called home. So, I knew that I should have just left her standing in the middle of the museum wondering why I had acted so strangely. Just like I knew that I should have pulled away from her now and stayed that way. My brain was screaming for me to stay that way.

In fact, it had been screaming for me to leave her alone even as I walked to her school earlier tonight. And don't get me started on the immediate panic that I felt when her blond roommate had woken up. She had recognized me from the museum yesterday, and if I stop to really think about things, I would also realize that she had seen me staring at Portia the whole time. Granted, she seemed more interested in getting her friend laid than securing her safety, but all she had to do was focus just for a second on the fact that Portia was out with someone whom she barely knew to a place not yet disclosed and my description would have been on the desks of every officer in town; military and civilian alike. It was a stupid mistake to make, but seeing her face light up when she climbed out of the window, though she tried to hide it, almost made it worth it.

Our walk to the festival was quiet and I was almost sure that I had lucked out on having the What's-Going-On part of the evening when she turned to me and asked precisely that. I wanted to give her a cryptic answer that would satisfy my need for privacy, but I knew that it would only annoy her. And for once, she was looking at me as if she actually wanted my company, as opposed to being stuck with it like she usually does whenever we are together. _Mierda Javier_, I thought. What did I care if some girl was looking at me. Plenty of girls had looked at me, eyes intent on taking me all in. Definitely all of her friends had looked at me, and I was quite sure that the tall dark one and the blond wanted to take me all in in an entirely different sense. But not her. Not until now. And I wanted to keep her that way, despite the fact that this feeling was making me feel as though I was turning into a woman. So no matter how uncomfortable it made me, I told her the truth: that I came to apologize. She deepened the look.

Luckily for me, we arrived at the riverwalk at that very moment and I busied myself with finding us secluded table (I had learned my lesson about being so open) and getting us a plate of food. I could tell that she was annoyed by my seating choice, but the promise of food must have taken her mind off of the offense, because she immediately started looking for dinner ware so that she could dig in. She didn't know that these were salsas. I told her that they were. She didn't want me to feed them to her. I did anyway, and when I reached for her mouth, my fingers brushed her lip. She looked as if she were about to choke, which would have been amusing if I were not having my own repertory issues. However, I like to think that I hid my emotions better than did she. After that, we ate in silence, but I could feel her eyes burning into me.

I spent the rest of the night watching her dance with some cabrón who had had too much to drink, and wondering why I had let her go so easily. Then I wondered why I even cared. Portia, again, was just a pretty face. And I didn't want her in that way anyway. I could tell that she didn't know what dance he was doing, but she kept up with his every move. He raised her tight black tank top to reveal a glittering navel ring and toned hips that were barely being covered by the sparkling red skirt. I sat back and let my mind wander again to what might be if we were those two people who had met under different circumstances. And the kinds of circumstances that we could get into. These thoughts filled my mind while she pulled me to my feet to join her. Then, we heard the sirens, and thankfully they subsided enough for me to focus on rushing us back to the museum. But now, here we were: her lips just inches away from mine, with the thoughts of those hypothetical circumstances back in full bloom. I told myself that I didn't know how it had come to this point and how I had become a person who allowed himself to become attracted this woman. Especially when I knew that I did not want her.

But I was lying to myself. I did want her. I wanted all of her. I have wanted her for a while, and though I did not know how strong that feeling was, I knew that I wanted her badly enough to endure the slap that was sure to come if I tried to take advantage of what was clearly an accident. But I did not have to worry about that, because the next thing that I knew, Portia was pulling me back to her by my collar until our lips met again. And this time, I found, there was nothing accidental about it.

It was as if my mind and body were in a wicked game of chess, and my brain was losing. But if she honestly thought that this momentary loss of control changed anything, then she had another thing coming.


	17. Portia: Temperature's Rising

**ATTENTION: **Hey everyone, I am really excited to share this next chapter with you all, because this is the scene that prompted me to tell Portia and Javier's story in the first place. It came to me in a day dream one Saturday night, during my junior year in high school (when I should have been doing homework, lol). Now, five years later, I am finally writing it on paper, and let me tell you, it was hard trying to convey through words what I saw in my head all of those years ago. It was so difficult trying to write this in a way that made it PG-13, but still gritty enough to suit Portia's personality. I also didn't wasn't it to sound to Harlequin Romance, you know? In fact, I almost didn't write this story at all, but this scene just would not go away. Which is why I have a bit of a soft spot for it. So I hope that you enjoy reading it as much, as I have enjoyed writing it. ENJOY!

**CHAPTER 17:** Portia- Temperature Rising

First off, kissing Javier was so not my intentions. I had only wanted to thank him and take his mind off of whatever was making him so sad. How was I supposed to know that he would choose that moment to turn his head in my direction? But he did. And so we kissed. Big deal! It was an innocent peck on the lips. Caylee and I have kissed plenty of times whenever alcohol was involved and I wasn't planning on jumping her anytime soon. Plus, despite the fun that we'd had tonight, I hated Javier Perón (Yes, I found out his last name on one of his paintings. Sue me!)But then, he pulled back, giving me one of his infamous looks and making the mistake of licking his lips. That's why I just said 'screw it.' He's hot and it's my birthday. So yes, I pulled him back into me. He hesitated a little at first, which honestly almost pissed me off. But then, he took control of the situation.

He sat upon his knees and grabbed my waist so that I was pressed against his chest. All of the shyness that he had carried earlier was as gone as the sweetness of the kiss; which went from teasing to fire-burning in two seconds flat. His fingers brushed the exposed skin on my waist in circular motions, making it hard for me to resist the urge to run my fingers through that silky black hair of his. Which, sadly, I later submitted to in the heat of the moment. The feel of his hair between my fingers seemed to fuel something between us that took away all of his inhibitions. It was like he was possessed. Or more like had practiced this before. Not just the kiss, but the whole scenario. And that thought made me surprisingly jealous, though I did not know why. I reluctantly removed my hands from his curls in order to push him off of me, not knowing that his shirt was raised. Under his shirt, my hand hit a hard wall of incredibly defined ab muscles at the same time that he rolled his tongue around my own. He had me and he knew it! Though, in his defense, it could have been my stupid ragged breathing that gave me away. Damn! His hands knew me well, and he played into my curves with the expertise of a virtuoso. I gasped, making him smirk a little onto my lips in an uncharacteristically cocky was that sent me completely over the edge. Needless, to say, I forgot all about my jealousy.

I'm not really sure how this next part happened, but somehow, he ended up on top of me with my legs around his waist. By now, he had advanced to gently trailing my jaw line and neck with kisses. He whispered something into the crook of my neck that sent violent, involuntary shivers down my spine. Or at least I thought that it was his words that had elicited my tremors, until second later when I felt my phone vibrate in the pocket of Caylee's tiny skirt; which was probably what he was just whispering to me.

"Are you going to get that? Or shall I?" He laughed, lowering himself back into a sitting position on the floor. I clumsily opened the phone and read Caylee's text: 911! Get here now!!!

"Come on," he said helping me up. "I'll walk you back." I wanted to protest. I tried to protest. But nothing came out. My heart was beating too fast, and speech didn't come as easily as it should have, because he had locked my senses and arrested my thoughts. In other words, I was completely and utterly breathless; gasping for air on the inside, and trying desperately not to show it.

So, he walked me home. _Just once though, _I told myself. I did not want to exhaust this action by making it a habit. Or worse: giving him the idea that I wanted him around for longer than tonight. Because I did not! But it was a nice enough option to keep around if ever the impossible should occur.

Now I know what you all are thinking: pretty girl loses her head for a guy just because he takes her out, gets her all hot, and then kisses her as if his life depends on it. But that is so not the case. Well, it's not completely the case, because I may have momentarily let my guard down, but if he thought for a second that things would be different now, he was sadly mistaken.


	18. Portia: Coming Undone

**CHAPTER 18:** Portia – Coming Undone

We arrived at my dorm ten minutes later, keeping to the shadows in case some of the police officers who had raided the carnival earlier were still patrolling the streets. Outside my window, Javier and I stared at each other, neither of us wanting to break the silence for fear of revisiting the topic of our earlier activities. Then, as if she could feel the tension, Caylee stuck her head out of the window and hissed, "Portia Catori Stanton! Hurry the hell up, and get your ass into this room right now!" Well so much for being inconspicuous. Caylee's whisper scream was almost louder than if she had actually screamed. Then, remembering her manners (or hormones) she came back to the window and added in a more flirty tone, "Hey there Mr. Tall, hot, and mysterious. Hope you took care of my little girl tonight?" She winked at me and hurried back into the room, barely missing the pebble that I tried to throw at her head. I began climbing up the window seal behind me that would give me better access into my second story room with cheeks that now matched my cherry red skirt. I was thankful to use this departure as my distraction, when I felt Javier's arms snake up my waist and pull me around to face him. When I looked into his face, he wore a sly smile.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked, hoping he'd interpret my anger as the reason for my flaming cheeks.

"I am lifting you into your window. Wouldn't that be easier than you breaking your neck trying to teeter on the window seal?" I looked at him incredulously. He was really a piece of work!

"Don't do that!"

"Don't do what?" He asked me, his face a breath away from mine.

"Don't pretend that your intentions are solely to help me sneak back into my room, when you're really just trying to find an excuse to touch me." I was pleased that my statement had wiped that stupid smile off his face, but the victory did not last long as he leaned down to my ear and whispered,

"Yet you make no attempt to get away." He placed a tiny kiss on my lips, before I swung around to the window, smacking him with my hair in a bitchy take-that move. Infuriatingly so, he chuckled and lifted me into the window without another word.

Inside the moonlit room, Caylee was pacing back and forth in front of the door. When she heard me close the window, she glared at me and said, "I have been texting and calling you for fifteen minutes! Do you know how hard it was to try and convince Wexler to come back later because you were in the bathroom? Don't even get me started on how it was even less believable the second time. What took you so long?"

"Um, nothing. What's going on?" I asked slipping out of her skirt and into a pair of satin pajama bottoms.

"Nothing much. Just the apocalypse." I didn't follow. She clarified, "An hour or so after you left, police sirens started going off. Then about twenty minutes later, Gesse texted me and said that Wexler and the RAs were doing mandatory room checks on everyone. I think that they've found out something about this whole possible war thing, but of course, none of the teachers will say anything. So what was so important that you couldn't pick up your phone?"

"I told you. Nothing." She lifted a dirty blond eyebrow indicating that she clearly did not believe me.

Just then, a loud bang sounded at our front door.

The voice on the other side yelled, "Ms. Stanton! Ms. Cartwright! Open up this instant!"

"Just a minute!" We both replied in overly sweet tones. I started for the door, but she grabbed my arm before I could get there.

"Here," she said throwing me a piece of tissue, "you might want this." Then seeing my quizzical look, she added, "It's going to pretty hard to pretend that you were here the whole night, when your lip gloss is smudged and your neck is stained with sugarberry lip prints."

Classes were basically a blur the next week. The room raid over the weekend had left everyone a bit on edge. Caylee was right about the teachers: they were definitely hiding something. They wouldn't say that anything was wrong, but Principal Wexler had lifted curfew completely from the student handbook. Instead of coming in at 12am, we were now not allowed off campus at all without a chaperone. Oddly enough, we followed this rule religiously. It wasn't that we were afraid of what would happen to us once we got back to school. It was more about what would happen to us once got out of school. Obviously, something lay beyond these four walls—so to speak—that even the most daring student didn't risk running into.

Still, being cooped up in the dorms was starting to take its toll on us. The boys from the basketball team spent most of their time in the weight room. Given that my ties to the team stopped at the sound of the final buzzer, I figured that they were just blowing off steam. Daphne on the other hand, soon informed us that they weren't just bench pressing weights.

"Then what are they doing?" Gesse asked stroking Mikala's, her girlfriend visiting from Brazil, hair. Mikala responded by lying on Gesse's lap so that she could continue.

"Remember when I said that they were trying to find ways to patrol the school?" We nodded for her to go on and she did. "Well they have gone one step further and have decided to join ROTC. Jordan, Chase, and some others are even talking about enlisting into the army when school is over."

"Are they all high?" Caylee squeaked.

"Quite possibly," Gesse replied seriously, "The boys have been a bit aggressive lately. Even given the situation. Myles cornered me the other day and asked me what side I was on and why I was choosing to date an outsider. This statement caused Mikala to abruptly sit up.

"Oh, and I am sure that you defended me, yes?" She glared at Gesse as she waited for a reply. Gesse, who was used to Mikala's jealousy causing fights and breaking them up (obviously Mikala felt that she could be the only cheater in the relationship) just sat back and waited for Mikala to storm off in an angry huff.

"She's such a drama queen. Why do you put up with her when you clearly want Myles?" Caylee asked.

"Same reason that you stay with Chase even though you too clearly want," she looked around the room until she spotted the little group watching _Star Trek_, "someone else." Reality dawning on me, I looked at Daphne to see if she was paying attention to where Gesse had looked, but as usual, she was ogling her reflection in her makeup compact. And they say vanity is a sin.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the only sin running rampant throughout our little group. The basketball team was taking the whole American pride thing to dangerous extremes, while envy and wrath ran rampant in Caylee and Chase's relationship. By Friday morning, they had broken up, leaving Chase and Jordan's room in shambles with Caylee shrieking on the phone for her mom to pick her up for the weekend. As she put it, my dad would be picking me up soon, and she really didn't want to deal with anyone else if I wasn't going to be there. So she left before first period had even started.

Five minutes before the last bell of the day, my dad left me a message in the office, stating that he would be here to pick me up at 5:00. This news, gave me the chance to change into shorts and go running along the school's track. You know, burn off some steam before going home to good old mom and sis. I popped my headphones in and ran at a slow pace. After all it wasn't like I was training for a marathon or anything. Immediately, everything around me seemed to melt away. Nothing existed to me except for the rhythmic pounding of my soles against the pavement. Not this war, the cabin fever, or the fact that even though I hadn't seen Javier in over a week, I couldn't stop thinking about him. In fact the only indication that time hadn't completely stopped was the passing songs on my MP3 player. I ignored the shuffle, until the sound of Jasmín's "Coming Undone" filled my ears. Hypnotic drum knocks provided the accompaniment as the pint sized burlesque-inspired pin up girl crooned about the anguish of lust:

_He dug himself inside of my skin._

_I drowned in his touch. _

_I've been gone ever since._

_He's my internal itch._

_Must pry him out._

_Dry him out. _

I lost myself in her voice the same way that she had lost herself in the man for whom she had written this song. I was singing along when I noticed a figure standing behind the gate that enclosed our campus. Javier stood there watching me watch him, while my dad sat from his car in the visitors' parking lot watching both of us.


End file.
